


Serenade

by SQ (proteinscollide)



Category: Pop Music RPF, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-15
Updated: 2003-07-15
Packaged: 2017-11-23 05:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proteinscollide/pseuds/SQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'll write a song about us.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serenade

**Author's Note:**

> For holographis

"Whatcha doing, J?" Chris asked on finding Justin curled into a corner of the sofa one day, tapping the end of his pen on his chin. Justin started, and the pen's movement stilled. He looked up with a slightly dazed expression on his face.

"Nothi - um, some writing," Justin quickly added when he realised from Chris' raised eyebrow that a brush-off was not going to be acceptable.

"Writing? But I thought that history essay was due last week," Chris said, easing himself onto the seat next to Justin, who was in a near-foetal position by now. He could see the blue scrawl on paper, half hidden by Justin's baggy shorts and the angle of his lap. Chris smiled to himself. The boy was being awfully secretive, for once.

"Uh, it's not - yeah, I handed that in last Friday. No thanks to you - " Justin stopped and scowled, body losing some tension as he turned to mock-glare at Chris.

Chris grinned, remembering the impromptu game of hide and seek he'd initiated with Justin's first draft - Chris had hidden it in a safe place for Justin to seek - that had been good for at least an hour of amusement. Justin had torn through all their rooms looking for it, raging loudly at Chris the whole time, when he wasn't laughing helplessly. Interesting things that had turned up during the search included: JC's diary, which they found under his pillow of all places (they picked the lock but didn't read it, just to screw with C's mind); two of Joey's sweatshirts in Lance's luggage, though when they returned them to Joey he'd just said thanks, and later on they saw it on Lance again; a lipstick stained napkin with a phone number scribbled in its folds, in the back pocket of Joey's jeans; and a lipstick stained napkin in Lance's trash basket. "No way," Justin had whispered in Chris' ear on its discovery, and Chris couldn't tell if it was true disbelief or jealousy in Justin's voice. Maybe it'd even been a mix of both.

But the one thing they couldn't find was Justin's homework, not even in the place Chris thought he'd left it. Lynn hadn't been pleased at all, when Justin tried to explain to her at the end of the afternoon why he didn't have anything for her to look over, and Justin even less pleased when he wasn't allowed out to dinner with them that night, but had to say in his room to rewrite it instead.

"So what's this new absorbing writing project then?" Chris asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. His right hand inched along the back of the couch towards Justin as he spoke, hopefully just out of his friend's sight. Justin sighed, and sat up a little.

"It's just something for myself. I thought it'd be, um, fun to, well. I wanted to write a song by myself. I'm still trying to, anyway," Justin said almost shyly, and shrugged. He put his hands neatly in his lap after that, right over his notebook. Chris sat back, planned assault on hold, a little disappointed.

"So it's not something scandalous, something that we - and here I mean me, mostly - could use to tease you mercilessly about, like a love letter or its melodic equivalent?" Chris couldn't help the note of hope still in his voice. Justin said "No!" but his ears began to turn red, very noticeable against the blonder-than-corn-blonde their stylist had insisted on. Chris grinned, then pounced gleefully on an unsuspecting Justin.

"Ahah!" he crowed, wrestling the pages from Justin's not quick enough hands, and settling Justin's stomach, knees either side of his body. "Now let me see - " Chris made a big show of turning to the last page written on, licking his finger tips with each flip. Justin made a face, but refrained from commenting, or struggling too much under Chris. After he'd finished scanning over Justin's latest effort, Chris lowered his head to look down at Justin, face blank.

"What did you think?" Justin asked, a little too fast to be careless, not realising the hopeful expression on his face. Chris willed his voice steady as he offered, "It's nice," running adjective after unsuitable adjective through his mind. And then, gently but firmly, "I'm sure the girl would be flattered to know how strongly you feel about her."

"What makes you think it's about - oh!" Justin said, catching himself in time and coughing to cover. "Uh, it's not too intense, is it?" he asked instead.

Chris thought about how Justin appeared so often as poised that it was easy to forget he wasn't a seasoned twentysomething performer; but it seemed he wrote love songs with the sixteen year old heart inside him. It was endearing, and almost flattering, and a lot scary. Chris pushed away the panic as best he could, and all the quips he could have made, and murmured something inanely encouraging about the songwriting instead. It worked, keeping the sweet smile on Justin's face. Chris didn't even flinch when he got up to walk away, knowing Justin was watching him and ready to resume scribbling furiously.

**

"Where's J?" Chris asked, walking onto the bus and sliding next to JC already in front of the TV. JC leant his head down to rest on Chris' shoulder as a greeting.

"In his bunk, but I wouldn't go back there right now."

"Why not?" Chris responded lazily, not that he had been thinking of doing so. Some Antique Roadshow ripoff was happening onscreen, and an old lady had just brought in the most hideous porcelain doll ever. Chris mentally made a bet with himself, that it was either worthless, or valued at an equally hideous amount of money. JC seemed to be appraising the doll in the same way. Chris had to poke him to get an answer to his question.

"What? Oh - um, he and Brit just had a blow out over the phone, _again_ ," and Chris joined in on the last word, familiar with the news.

"Who's supposedly in the wrong this time?" he asked in curiosity. JC managed to look sad and amused as he answered, "It's never about fault with those two, you know that."

Chris nodded when he heard that, because they all knew it was true; they were two kids playing at love, and somewhere along the way they had lost almost all reason, for any of it, the dating or the fighting. He sneaked a look at the TV then. The old lady looked frightened as the host declared her doll could fetch four thousand easily, and Chris took another long incredulous stare at the monstrosity. Beside him, JC was grinning and nodding his head. He said out loud, "I figured it for about that!"

Chris shook his head. "C, but that _thing_ is so ugly."

JC bounced in his seat as the lady took the doll in her arms and tottered off-screen. "Yeah, but she's gonna be rich when she gets rid of it!"

Chris almost pointed out that a few thousand was hardly a fortune, until he stopped to think like a normal person. He said instead, "It's cute that you get so excited and happy for a random stranger like that."

JC gave him a quick grin before turning back to the show. Chris sighed, bored already, and made a quick decision. "Hey, I'm gonna check on J." JC looked surprised, a frown spreading over his face, and then he shrugged and said, "Yeah, maybe he's calmer now," but he didn't look so sure.

Justin was lying in his bed, back to the curtain, as Chris peeked in.

"Justin?" he asked, gingerly placing a hand in the center of Justin's stiff back. He felt stupid as the word left his mouth, because, _duh, who else would it be_? but he was really asking for permission to be there. Justin snuffled quietly before turning over, Chris' hand sliding to rest on his side over several ribs. Chris could feel his still hitching breath in the expansion and squeeze there.

"I'm OK," Justin said, without being asked. Chris said, "Alright." He made Justin shift over though so there was room for him on the mattress, but as he moved Justin yelped and sat up suddenly.

"Sorry!" Chris hurried to say, backing away slightly, but Justin reached out and held Chris by the wrist with one hand, while digging around the rumpled blankets to his side with the other. His search brought up a battered notebook and a pen.

"I was writing, getting some shit off my chest," Justin explained sheepishly as he put the things away neatly on his shelf. "The spiral wire poked me in the side, that's all. Come back here."

He drew Chris to him, and they lay side by side, facing each other. They didn't say a word, but Chris ran a palm up and down Justin's arm, lightly over his back, until the redness faded from Justin's eyes.

"Thanks," Justin whispered, and Chris brushed his lips over the top of Justin's forehead, felt the soft line of hair against his skin.

"Anytime," he answered, and Justin folded his hands over Chris', sure of the promise.

**

Justin was already lounging by the pool, long limbs tanning in the sun. He raised his sunglasses to the top of his head when he heard Chris approaching.

"Hey," he called out joyfully, and Chris tried to smile enigmatically in response. Justin looked good, toned muscle in shorts only, drops of water flecked over the light hairs of his stomach and on his arms. Chris wound his way past the picnic furniture, eyes squinting in the light, to rest on the edge of the deckchair next to Justin.

"Thought you'd be busy already, with the second album a done deal," he said, not one to beat about the bush. Justin looked amused, and stretched out with his arms.

"Nah, there's no hurry," he answered cheekily, "we stars don't do any work, don'cha know?"

"Does that mean it's already finished, a miracle of speed recording, or that you're actually taking a break for real, a miracle in itself?" Chris teased, leaning back and trying to relax over the wide metal slats.

Justin laughed long and loud. "Hell no, I've not even started. There's ideas and snippets all over the place, but I think I'm gonna take my time on this one." He looked confident and happy, and Chris could feel the last vestiges of the child he first knew blending to disappear into the assured young man.

"Well, time, we've got a lot more of it now." Chris knew he would say this with a wry smile, and Justin sat up with a harried, "Man, you're not gonna tell me now that you didn't want to stop with the band?" He looked genuinely disconcerted, so much so that Chris couldn't even be bothered to drag it out and torture Justin.

"No, no. We did the right thing, I think." He meant it too, but he had to make a face when Justin continued to watch him too closely. "Christ Justin, it's really OK, but you're making me nervous now."

Justin laughed as he breathed out in relief. "Thank god. I'd hate for you to be unhappy about anything, you know?" He looked embarrassed at his admission, and cracked his knuckles in the silence afterwards. He stood up abruptly and said, not looking at Chris, "You want a drink?"

Chris wondered at the sudden change of mood but said, "Yeah, sure," and waited patiently as Justin disappeared inside the house, returning moments later with a bottle of beer. Chris opened it and took a long drink before holding it out to Justin, who was now sitting on the edge of his chair, so their knees bumped when either of them moved.

"Uh, so are you going to tell me what was so urgent I had to come and see you today, not tomorrow or three days later, but right now?"

Justin didn't answer straight away, picking up the bottle and taking a big gulp first.

"I - it had to be today or I'd lose my nerve - um, to do - well - _this_ ," and Justin leaned over the little space between them to kiss Chris slowly, as if he'd saved all the time he'd wanted to spare, and none of the uncertainty, for this very moment. Chris held his breath for a second before kissing back.

Justin drew away a little later, a bit out of breath and smiling broadly. He wrinkled his nose and in a light tone, with words Chris knew he meant, he said, "You could do with a dip in the pool, man." Chris grinned at that. It wasn't going to be awkward at all.

"Hey, when you called I dropped everything and rushed over, just for you, so I'm sorry if I didn't realise I should've taken a shower too, your royal hygieneness," Chris snarked back, but he can't help but look at Justin with love as always. "Why now, though?" he asked, dropping back into serious mode. "We could have stayed as friends only forever, you wouldn't have lost me any other way."

Justin regarded him calmly, and said, "I've wanted to do that forever, doofus, I just worked up enough courage today. It should've happened years ago, man."

Chris hit him lightly across the back of his head. "I knew about the forever - you wrote songs about me, yeah, I did know about that - but not years ago, I don't think I could've handled that." He tried to make a disgusted face, but Justin moved in for a kiss, and then another, and it didn't matter anymore what had happened in the past.

"We're good now, that's what matters," Justin murmured, as if reading Chris' mind, between kisses. "I'll write another song about you, even." As Chris looked askance, Justin amended it to, "I'll write a song about us. Except with non-gender specific pronouns." He had the grace to look apologetic.

Chris pretended to shudder. "God, I hope you don't," he laughed, "Just look at how well all the relationships you've immortalised in song have turned out."

"Not like you and me, huh?" Justin grinned in return, and decided instead to kiss the lyrics, already in his head, onto the skin of Chris' left shoulder, salt on his upper lip.

END


End file.
